Tuesday was brought to us by the letter F – fog and frost. Before I left the house around 6:30, I checked the thermometer. It was 36F, a comfortable margin for our new plants. Frost was forecast for higher elevations. We made it through, or so I thought. There was nothing unusual about the day until I went down the steep hill and found the valley overlaid with fog. Taking a picture was useless, since all you would have seen was white blankness. The first bit of color was on the bank of the creek – little yellow buttercups. These same plants were under water only a week ago after heavy rain. The creek is back to its normal winter level.

After seeing the creek, I walked past the firehouse as the sun struggled to gain mastery over the fog.

The fog was still winning as I walked back up the hill, but I looked south and greeted the tops of the mountains there.

Coming back to our street, I was surprised to see white on the rooftops. Frost? As I took the newspaper out of its box, I saw bumps on top. I thought they were water drops that would move as I touched them, but they were cold and solid — ice! Oh! No!

I rushed to the deck to see what had happened to the new plants. The sun made the railing sparkle, and there was a thin layer of ice on the leaves. Twelve hours later the plants are still standing tall, so I think they won the frosty battle this time.